


Love, Barely Alive

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gore, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Stabbing, Torture, everything you'd expect from a ramsay/reek fanfiction, wound fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Love, Barely Alive

Reek wasn’t at all unaccustomed to being left bound and helpless in Dreadfort’s dungeons. He _was_ unaccustomed to the position his amicable Lord Ramsay had left him in. He was lying down this time, hands and feet tied tight to a table rather than strung up on the familiar ‘X’ of House Bolton’s sigil. He’d been sitting alone in the dimly lit dungeon a while, studying the damp ceiling and wondering what Ramsay had in store for him.

“Hello, sweet Reek! Sorry I kept you waiting.” He flinched at the sudden voice and the jingle of keys and turned his head to see Ramsay carefully bolting the thick wooden door. He turned around, an exaggerated frown on his face. “Lordship calls, you know... I’d much rather be playing with you.”

“Hello, M’lord.” Reek smiled weakly and watched as Ramsay removed his cloak and discarded it haphazardly on the floor. He was smaller than most men without the layers of fur but still capable, Reek had learned. He added, unsure, ”T-Thank you for playing with me.”

“Oh, it sounds dirty when _you_ say it.” He moved out of Reek’s view and to a small table topped with his usual tools: a few blades of varying shapes and sizes, nails and various medicinal gels and bandages provided by Maester Tybald. He found dressing Reek boring compared to injuring him, but took care in doing so. He didn’t want him to die, not when the two often had so much _fun_ together. He whistled as he studied the instruments, eventually picking up a long dagger with an intricately designed bone handle. As he reentered his vision, Reek’s heart sank at the sight of the elegant blade being effortlessly twirled in his fingers.

“Well made, huh?” He mused, closing the gap between the two. He leaned over Reek, pointing out the design etched into it’s hilt. Reek agreed quietly and Ramsay pointed it at him, beaming. “It’ll look better covered in your blood!”

Ramsay climbed onto the table, straddling Reek. He wiggled, trying to get comfortable on the other man’s bony hips. Reek briefly thought back to the times he’d payed women to mount him the same way and half wondered if Ramsay would act differently if he hadn’t rendered him a eunuch.

“If your cock wasn’t gone, you’d enjoy this, wouldn’t you?” He roughly ground against his groin and laughed. Reek flinched, the skin still tender from Ramsay’s alterations. He continued his rhythmic moving a few moments more, wanting to draw more noise out of Reek, and finally settled down after he was breathless. Reek drew his eyes to the door as he tried to focus on anything but the pain radiating from the poorly cauterized scar or Ramsay’s hardness against it. “I do, of course.”

He traced the blade along his chest and Reek shivered beneath him. In looking for a good spot to place his knife, he found himself studying Reek’s exposed upper body intently. He was covered in an array of scars, burns and bruises from prolonged abuse. He could easily think back to the occasion behind each bit of gnarled flesh; Ramsay had tortured an innumerable amount of people but Reek was by far his favorite. He loved his pathetic whimpering and moaning, the defeated look in his eyes, his utter devotion.

“We’re doing something different today, Reek! Something exciting!” He readjusted himself and bent over, putting his weight on his left hand so he could hold his right steady. He delicately placed the tip of the blade to the right of Reek’s belly button and felt his muscles tense. “I've felt all of you a hundred times over and now I want to feel _more_." He gazed tenderly at Reek, whose eyes were already welling up. Before he could stammer anything out, Ramsay continued. "You have stay perfectly still, Reek. If you’re good, I’ll give you something nice. You can cry if you’d like.”

He suddenly dug the knife into Reek, deep enough to break the skin but not enough to tear any innards hiding below his sweat slicked skin. He let out a yelp and almost began to writhe before imagining what Ramsay would do if he disobeyed him. His chest heaved wildly and his ragged breathing echoed throughout the small stone-walled room. He tried to remain as still as he could, digging his fingers into the wooden table and gasping. Ramsay cooed at him, “That’s good, Reek… ”

He continued at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to keep the incision precise as he could. He enjoyed brutalizing Reek, but wanted to take care in not letting him bleed out. It felt like a higher form of intimacy and he reveled in the sound of Reek panting and failing to choke back tears. He pulled back the bloodied dagger and admired the jagged slit. Beneath him Reek continued to cry and heave, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh! You did so well, little Reek. Here’s your gift.” He leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tasting the snot and tears that had accumulated above his lips. Reek cried into his lips for a moment but his sobbing lessened and almost subsided as they continued, to Ramsay’s delight. He felt the excitement rise in his stomach and burn its way down to his thighs and continued the rough kiss a moment more before pulling back, bringing strings of snot and spit with him.

“You’re disgusting.” He laughed and wiped a sleeve over his mouth, getting rid of the excess from their kiss. He slowly ran his fingers over the wound, pulling a low whine from Reek. “Do you like it?”

“Y-Yes, M’lord. Thank you.” He choked out the words, still struggling to breathe easily. He was desperately trying to focus on anything to take his mind away from the searing pain and his eyes settled upon Ramsay's. He looked helplessly into them, unblinking, pale and filled with palpable joy. He was in pain but he was grateful he wasn't being mutilated or beaten, thankful his Lord loved him so much. He wanted to meet him for another kiss but didn’t dare move out of turn. Ramsay cast his knife to the ground, it’s clattering loud in Reek’s ears. He wanted to be relieved, but was well aware Ramsay was just as deadly without a blade.

Without warning, he slipped his fingers into the gash and Reek trembled, biting back another scream. Ramsay felt around the gory opening and hummed with satisfaction. He took pleasure in the warmth, oozing blood and especially Reek’s twitching and whimpering. Reek's breathing picked up again and he grew nauseous as he felt Ramsay’s fingers scissoring the wound wider. He began to grind himself again on Reek, noticeably harder than before. Waves of pain washed over him as his fingers slipped in and out in time with Ramsay's rocking hips. 

Deftly untying the laces of his britches and pulling down his small-clothes, Ramsay exposed himself to the cold air. Unashamed, as if he wasn’t atop Reek, he began to rub himself as he dug his fingers more violently into the bloodied flesh. Reek sheepishly watched; his rough fingers and the sight of his own ripped skin made him grit his teeth, but he relished being so close to Ramsay, being able to be of use to him. Their eyes met and Ramsay glared at him hungrily. “You love me, don’t you?” Ramsay asked between pants. Reek nodded emphatically and answered through hiccuping sobs, “Yes, M’lord. M-More than anything.”

“Then do this for me.” Ramsay leaned forward to undo the bindings on Reek’s wrists. Reek winced as he felt his hardness brush against his stomach, against the tear. He sat up weakly, head spinning. Before he could catch his breath, Ramsay pulled him close and met him for another kiss. His fingers returned to the steadily oozing cut and Reek gasped into his lips. He was quickly growing dizzy and tired but eagerly reciprocated the kiss. Ramsay pressed against him more aggressively and held Reek's face in his hands, forcing them together until their tongues met. Their embrace was messy; a mixture of Reek's snot, tears, sweat and blood. Ramsay outwardly mocked Reek for his poor hygiene but enjoyed how pathetic he was and wasn't at all bothered by the film that covered their faces. They eventually broke apart and Ramsay roughly took Reek's hand in his, dragging it across his stomach and coating it with his own blood. 

Bringing it down from his abdomen, he forced Reek's hand tightly around his cock. The excitement of slicing open Reek and his previous masturbation had brought him close, precum dripping from it's tip and mingling with the blood that Reek's hand had coated him with. Reek obediently began to stroke him, quickly finding a steady pace. Ramsay shuddered and moved into his touch, cursing. Blood began to fall more generously from the cut as Ramsay's movements grew more frantic. Their panting filled the air, Ramsay growing louder and coming to moan as Reek pumped him faster. Reek himself was becoming more and more light headed, the corners of his vision growing black and hazy. Roughly bucking into Reek’s hand, Ramsay came thickly onto Reek’s stomach, his seed mingling with the smeared blood.

As the last of his sight ebbed away, Reek gently touched the sullied wound and said a weak 'thank you' before slumping into Ramsay, unconscious. 


End file.
